Dramione FlashFic Series: Trahir
by RZZMG
Summary: Hermione Granger's thoughts after the Battle of the Astronomy Tower - and how Draco Malfoy had deceived her all along. "Trahir" is French for "Betrayed." Hermione x Draco. FIC CHALLENGE. Nominated for Round 7 Dramione Awards 2010. COMPLETE.


**FIC CHALLENGE FROM heeroduo1x2. Criteria are:**

_1. Draco & Hermione are the main characters_

_2. Angst, drama, romance or comedy – any genre fine with me_

_3. Must be 1000 words or less_

_4. Can take place at any time during Hogwarts school years, but has to be novel compliant (no AU)_

_5. Characters can be slightly OCC and you can include anyone – I don't have any restrictions_

_6. Characters can have sex or not – your choice_

**I like this idea so much that I think I'll turn it into a series, much like **_**THE MIRROR SERIES**_** I've written. The idea is to get my creative juices flowing, and I can add new stories/takes on the concept at any time, as each installment will be short and easy to pump out.**

**Here's the first in the series… PLEASE REVIEW!**

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**_**DRAMIONE FLASHFIC SERIES: STORY #1 - TRAHIR **_

_**By: RZZMG**_

_**Story word count: 981 words**_

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He hurried right past me, his wide-eyed, wintery gaze capturing mine for less than three seconds before briskly rushing onward as if the hounds of Hell themselves were nipping at his expensive, Italian leather-soled heels, and I didn't try to stop him. I just… let him go.

Merlin's grace, I'd trusted the wrong boy.

It didn't even occur in those fleeting moments for me to believe that _Malfoy_ could be responsible for everything that had happened here tonight, and so there was no harassment, no questions. I simply watched his platinum-blonde head disappear around a corner, Snape's pale, elegant hand pressing on his black-cloaked back the whole way, urging him onward silently, and thought merely that I was relieved that he was being escorted to safety. Then, I'd taken off in the opposite direction, heading out to find my friends, having left an unconscious, but otherwise unharmed, Professor Flitwick in Luna's capable hands.

I remember thinking at the time that the lingering scent of dark, ashy smoke following Draco down the corridor was curious, but that was the only niggling doubt. Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder gave off such a scent. I should have remembered that from Fred and George's shop. That fragrance should have tipped me off… but I didn't give it a second's consideration.

I am the world's biggest fool.

Madam Pomfrey tutts and shakes her head as she assesses Bill Weasley's wounds, running her wand over cuts that don't stop seeping. Ron's hand squeezes in fear. I hold on tight to the sweaty palm cupping mine, offering what little comfort I can to my trembling, ginger-haired friend.

Am I simply being too hard on myself?

Really, why should such a terrible truth about Malfoy have suggested itself to me to begin with? After all, I hadn't agreed with Harry's character assessment of Slytherin's Prince all year. I'd refused to admit he'd taken the Dark Mark and joined the legions of Voldemort's soulless and damned. I'd refused to believe that he was a malevolent snake in the depths of his heart, despite all of the venom he'd thrown about for the last six years - despite living as royalty within the central den of vipers for the same length of time…

…I'd refused to believe that the boy who had kissed me with such tenderness, who had admitted to having fallen for me, and who I'd given up my virginity to just a few, short weeks ago in the very same hospital ward I now stood – in that cot, right over _there_ - could be responsible for the aiding and abetting of evil.

Besides, he'd been walking with Snape, his Head of Household and a man Dumbledore trusted. _A Professor_.

I'd let him go because I'd refused to believe.

How could I have been duped by such an obvious ploy? Malfoy had _obviously_ planned to direct me off his scent, most likely believing I'd come to the medi-ward the night he'd almost been hexed to death to confront him regarding his connections to Voldemort…

…Which _wasn't_ why I'd snuck out of my dormitory, breaking school rules, and gone to his side _at all_. No, I'd gone out of misplaced guilt, wanting to apologize for Harry's irresponsible, uncontrolled behavior. And I'd gone to try to convince Malfoy not to run off to his mother to petition her to call in the Hit Wizards and have my best friend arrested for attempted murder.

Instead, I'd ended up in Draco's arms, a willing participant to the seduction of my senses and reason. My lover had craftily fashioned me with long, well-manicured, skillful hands, and with a low, honeyed, whispering voice, and with a reckless set of lips, a sinful tongue, and deliciously surging hips. Through such lies, I'd been made into his ideal Pinocchio, as useful a puppet as Crabbe or Goyle or Parkinson. He'd played my heart strings adroitly, so that I wouldn't consider suspicion upon him.

How exceptionally Slytherin.

So, my elaborately fashioned shame has a straightforward explanation, after all: I've been disgraced by the lure of romantic sex. Such an unoriginal plot device… but then, sometimes the best laid schemes are the oldest tricks in the book.

Oh, vanity, how easily you are coupled with physical temptation! Rename me Eve! I have been a fool for atonement, Tristan! Carve a scarlet 'A' into my forehead! I have destroyed Camelot.

"'Mione? Are you okay?"

Ron… My brave, wonderful, loyal friend. In his brilliant cerulean gaze, I see he's worried by my pale, sweaty guilt, misunderstanding entirely its purpose.

"Yes, I'm fine. Do _you_ need anything?"

That earnest, affectionate smile that never fails to tug at my heart appears again, and he shakes his fiery, shaggy leonine mane in the negative. His gaze involuntarily travels back to Bill's wounds instead, and his dry, chapped lips droop in consternation. "Where's Harry?"

As if summoned by will alone, our best friend arrives. He is haggard, solemn, resolved as he tells his story of Dumbledore's last stand. It's what I have suspected since I arrived to the ward earlier, having had time to consider what I'd observed and puzzled through, but I cannot help the gasp of shock that escapes my lips – nor the suffocating pain that garrotes my heart - as I hear the truth relayed aloud.

Malfoy, my Deceiver.

This _is _my fault. I had denied what was right before my very eyes from the beginning. I'd let quixotic notions of forbidden love influence common sense.

I am glass, shattering inside, cut to ribbons by remorse and poignant betrayal.

Ron moves closer to me, putting his arm around me in support, unknowing how I have hoodwinked him as capably as Malfoy, himself. I want to push him away, confess my transgressions…

…But he is so warm, so stable, so _true_.

Merlin's grace, I'd trusted the wrong boy.

I am the world's biggest fool.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

"**Trahir" = French for "Betrayed"**

**This story is compliant with "The Half-Blood Prince" novel. After the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, while in the hospital ward at Hogwarts (standing watch with Ron over an unconscious Bill), Hermione tells Harry and the others that she and Luna were in the dungeons watching Snape's room once the Dark Mark had been cast (instead of staying at Ron's side to protect him from harm or patrolling the corridors to assure that students stayed in beds, as a good Prefect would do, or helping McGonagall find Harry and Dumbledore… **_**yeah,**__**I didn't think what JKR wrote was a very likely choice either, given Hermione's established character – sorry, JKR!**_**). Once Flitwick went unconscious in Snape's office and she and Luna were instructed to look after the passed-out professor while Severus booked for the Astronomy Tower (not having felt the Dark Mark cast right over his own head, apparently), JKR has Hermione stay put (she doesn't bother to check on her best friend or the guy she's in love with, or to help stop the Death Eaters invading Hogwarts, but decides to instead stay at an **_**unconscious **_**teacher's side in the dungeons, being decidedly ineffective throughout a major battle – **_**yeah, I think you see why I'm not feeling this use of Hermione to be very believable**_**). However my discontent with that scenario **_**did**_** give me the opportunity for some creative license with Hermione's exact whereabouts between Flitwick's hexing and Draco's escape with Snape. Thus, this story. Hooray for fanfic!**

"**Rename me Eve" = in reference to the first women on earth, Eve, from "**_**The Holy Bible**_**" (Genesis story). Eve is tempted by the Devil (in the guise of a snake) to eat the fruit from the forbidden Tree of Knowledge. She then turns around and tempts her husband, Adam to do the same thing. This results in God becoming angered at the couple. Adam and Eve are punished by being cast out of the Garden of Eden by God, and made mortal. It is the literary fall of humankind. **

"**I have been a fool for atonement, Tristan!" – in reference to the opera "**_**Tristan and Isolde**_**" by Richard Wagner. The witch, Isolde demands of the warrior, Tristan that he drink a poison to atone for having betrayed her (he killed her fiancée, and she let him go, but then he turned around and captured her and sold her off to his cousin as a bride). However, when both she and Tristan drink the poison together (thinking they will honorably meet their end), they are tricked to discover they have drunk a love potion, not poison. As a result, they are irrevocably drawn to each other.**

"**Carve a scarlet 'A' into my forehead" = in reference to Nathaniel Hawthorne's "**_**The Scarlet Letter**_**." In the story, Hester Prynne lives in 17****th**** Century Massachusetts, and is considered an outcast by the community for supposedly having an affair. She is forced to wear a fabric, scarlet-colored "A" (representing her adultery) on her clothing. **

"**I have destroyed Camelot" = in reference to the Arthurian Legends. Specifically, Queen Guinevere was King Arthur's wife, and she had an affair with the King's best knight, Sir Lancelot. This supposedly marked the beginning of the end of Arthur's mythical 'shining realm' known as Camelot. In this story, I use Camelot as a metaphor for Hogwarts.**


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